


Preferential

by sabinelagrande



Category: The Avengers (2012)
Genre: Fix-It, Hero Worship, Injury, Jealousy, M/M, Misunderstanding, Post-Canon, Spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-05-04
Updated: 2012-05-04
Packaged: 2017-11-04 19:18:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,845
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/397294
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sabinelagrande/pseuds/sabinelagrande
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Clint is jealous; it's kind of his thing.</p><p>Spoilers for the movie inside, as one might expect from a fix-it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Preferential

Clint's jealous.

It's part of his nature, intrinsic, immovable. It's why he's so standoffish and aloof sometimes, unwilling to let people in; it's why he and Natasha didn't work out, given her idiosyncratic views of morality; it's something Phil has to monitor, a known issue.

It's also part of why he's so loyal. Even when it's a bad idea, he'll defend his handler at any cost, because it's _his_ handler, not anybody else's, not to be touched. He hasn't blown a mission yet because of it and Phil doesn't think he would, but he's gotten very, very close. It's the reason he and Phil _have_ worked out so far; Phil's not used to loyalty, still sort of touched and surprised every time. The kind of people he becomes associated with through SHIELD, they're in-and-out, back-and-forth. He loses agents at a pretty steady rate, partly because he's the one they send in for the really dangerous stuff, but mostly because they say he's hard to work with, impenetrable, a no-nonsense hardass who's got no interest in anything but the job. 

Phil is devoted, takes every single one of his operatives seriously, would die for any of them, but until Clint, he was fairly sure that none of them would have returned the favor. Clint seems to know that without being told, whether he can just read it off Phil or he's heard it from other agents. It never bothered Phil very much, but it makes Clint _livid_ , the thought that anyone would treat him like that.

Phil knows all this. 

He's not sure why he still forgets.

\---

It starts on a pretty normal day. The only thing strange about it is that Phil is whistling when he gets out of the shower- this is something Phil has done before, but it's still a pretty remarkable happening. Clint's only been asleep for maybe two hours, so it's actually kind of annoying; but soon enough Phil comes over and kisses him, his mouth tasting sweetly of mint, and Clint forgives him a little.

It's almost eleven when Clint makes it to central command, yet nobody says anything about it- it's been that kind of week for him. There's this guy who he doesn't recognize sitting off to one side, a big, clean-cut blond guy in a brown bomber jacket; Clint's hackles go straight up, because Phil is talking to him, and Phil looks _excited_. Phil doesn't _do_ excited. Clint's seen awed, shocked, pleased, even overwhelmed, but not excited.

What Clint really wants to do is go over there and smack Phil on the ass, make it very clear what goes on around here, but he's pretty sure that, one, Phil would never talk to him again and that, two, he would deserve it.

He walks over to where Natasha and Maria are standing, talking about something involving knives, and his face must say everything, because Natasha snorts. "That's Steve Rogers," Maria says. "Our newest asset."

"The popsicle?" Clint says; it's probably a really mean thing to say, but it's also really satisfying.

"Don't let Phil hear you say that," Natasha says, more a warning than a taunt, and Clint's hand balls into a fist.

He looks over, and he briefly makes eye contact with Rogers, not making a secret of the fact that he's sizing him up; Phil doesn't even turn around to see what Rogers is looking at.

This is going to end badly.

Rogers's arrival is when the Initiative really begins; the rest of them, they've been sort of caught up in SHIELD for a while, whether as regular operatives like Clint and Natasha or as "special cases," Phil likes to call them when he's being charitable. And Phil is right in the thick of it, just as he should be, just like the plan, but Clint's not exactly thrilled about what's going on around him.

Clint is very aware of how Phil feels about the rest of the team, such as it is; he believes in them, in what they're doing, but they're about as useful, as pleasant, as easy to contain, and as deserving of comfort and patience as a bag full of angry cats. He couches things in a kind of flat smile, smug, but he's not flexible at all, not when it comes to dealing with this pack of assholes. When they push, he pushes right back- and nine times out of ten, he wins.

Except when it comes to Steve.

Steve kind of treats him like crap, and Phil doesn't seem to care. He's got that bright-eyed, awed look on his face every time he looks at Steve, and Steve can say anything and it doesn't really leave. Even when he's got to tell Steve no, he doesn't do it in the same way- he's still firm about it, but he's not nearly so mean. Steve don't even notice, just takes it for granted that Phil will get him get away with anything he wants.

This is the absolute last thing Clint ever expected, that the famous Captain America is an asshole and the feared Agent Coulson of SHIELD is a groupie.

Clint is doing his best not to get pissed, not that anybody would notice. Everybody fights all the time, but he tries to keep his shit together and his eye on the ball, because he's a fucking professional. It's such a fucking pain; preferential treatment and asskissing by his handler directed at someone else is annoying enough on its own, but when it involves his boyfriend, it brushes right up against completely fucking unbearable. 

But then, and Phil comes really close to dying for the fortieth time- Clint stopped counting around fifteen, because it stopped being impressive and just started being depressing. Loki decides it's a good idea to try and skewer Phil, but Steve comes to his rescue, grabbing him by the arm and pulling him out of harm's way at the very last second; he dislocates Phil's shoulder in the process, but Clint'll take that over dying any day of the week.

Phil's in medical afterwards, and even apart from his shoulder, he's pretty wrecked, out of it for a while. When he gets to the semi-coherent stage, it's Clint he starts asking for, and Clint can't help feeling a little bit of smug satisfaction over that, the fact that he wants to see him and not Steve, even though he knows it's really cruel, using Phil for one-upmanship like that.

Phil blinks awake, looking at him, and he squeezes his eyes shut again. "Too bright," he says, and Clint's up in an instant to switch the overhead lights off.

"Had me worried," Clint tells him, slipping his hand into Phil's, rubbing his thumb along Phil's knuckles.

"Imagine how I felt," Phil says dryly, but he smiles. "What's the status?"

"Steve swooped in and saved the day," Clint says, and he's trying really hard not to sound bitter, but it's not working.

"Clint," Phil says, looking at him, with that straight, no-bullshit tone that Clint doesn't hear a lot outside the field. "Rogers is your team leader. If you've got a problem-"

Clint takes his hand away, and Phil frowns at him. "That's the problem," he says, suddenly sick of the whole thing. "Captain America first and foremost, with the rest of us dragging way behind."

Phil gives him a look; he looks tired, and Clint regrets snapping at him, making him deal with Clint's frustrations when he's sitting here laid up and just trying to recover. He also looks thoughtful, though, like he does when he's putting things together.

"Captain America has been my hero since I was a little kid," Phil tells him. "I idolize him." He narrows his eyes at Clint. "You're about to run your mouth. Don't. Shut up and listen to me, Barton." Clint bites down his retort; as usual, Phil's got him figured out. "I dreamed about meeting him a thousand times, but it was hopeless. He was dead at worst and imaginary at best, and I couldn't do anything to change that."

He reaches over, putting his hand over Clint's. "I never imagined anyone like you, and I love you," he says, and that's such an odd thing about him, the way he can say it just like that, like it's no harder to get out than any other statement of fact. "Before I met you, _I_ was hopeless. There's a marked difference."

Clint has no idea how to respond to that. He's used to laconic and mordant from Phil, but not anything like this at all. He leans down and kisses him, trying to say what he can't in words, doesn't know how to articulate. Phil strains up to meet him, putting his hand on the back of Clint's neck to hold him close.

When they part, there's a coppery taste in Clint's mouth, and he realizes he's opened a split on Phil's lip. "Shit, I'm sorry," he says, plucking a tissue out of the box by the bed and dipping it into Phil's water glass.

"It's fine," he protests, but he only squirms a little while Clint carefully dabs at his lips.

Steve Rogers, man of the hour, chooses right then to come in; he's carrying a bouquet of daisies, fucking _daisies_ , and he looks at Clint in surprise. "Oh."

"Yeah, 'oh,'" Clint says; he can practically feel Phil's disapproving look, even though he can't see him. "You need something, Rogers?"

"Natasha said she wasn't going to leave me alone until I 'apologized for being a dick,'" Steve says, looking chagrined. "I don't approve of the language, but I'm afraid she's still right." He holds out his flowers, giving them to Clint. "I haven't been very appreciative of everything you do, Agent Coulson. We'd be lost without you."

Clint is looking at him in wary amazement, and Phil is smiling as brightly as he can under what must be a hell of a lot of painkillers- which, as it turns out, is pretty damn brightly. "Thank you, Captain," he says, and yeah, Clint gets it now, the difference, the magnitude of this for Phil, what a dick _he's_ been to be angry at Phil just because he's finally getting to live his greatest, oldest dreams.

It occurs to Clint that this can't possibly be the first time Steve's been to a hospital room to visit one of his fans, but his smile doesn't look any less genuine for it. "I'll let you get some rest," he says. "Take care."

He leaves, and it's just Clint and Phil again; it's always going to be just Clint and Phil, where it counts, and Clint never should have doubted that. "Sorry," he says quietly, laying the flowers on the bedside table.

"You people should learn to start banking those apologies for when you really need to give them," Phil tells him. "You could start by using them for blowing up buildings and move up from there."

Clint laughs, raising Phil's hand to his lips and kissing it. "No promises."

Phil smiles.


End file.
